


twin high maintenance machines

by boobuu



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8325946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boobuu/pseuds/boobuu
Summary: They’ve got a whole system figured out at this point.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This small fandom has such nice, plot-driven fic. That is not what this is.
> 
> Beta'd by @sphesphe, who eggs on all my worst impulses. You can find my fledgling tumblr at megajubbly, please come and talk Magnificent 7 to me, I have all of the cowboy feels.
> 
> Comments and criticism much appreciated, haven't written fic in almost a decade and never anything like this. Considering expanding this into a series, since I ended up thinking through a lot of background detail that never made it into the actual fic... somehow my trash porn grew feelings and also a backstory.
> 
> Title from "This Year" by the Mountain Goats.

They’ve got a whole system figured out at this point.

It’s still a damn mess whenever something triggers an attack for him—a car stalls out on the street, a man takes offense at his charming way with women, someone swings a little too close and a little too mean after a few hours bullshitting at the bar—but Billy’s always right there to clean his messes up for him. Billy’s usually able to threaten enough imminent violence to scare off all but the truly intent or inebriated, and he’s discreet enough to take care of the rest without drawing too much attention. Billy brushes him off, takes him home, shoves him into a cold shower. Waits it out with him into the early hours of the morning and doesn’t flinch when Goodnight cracks open the gun safe and sleeps fitfully with one hand brushing metal.

———

Sometimes it’s a matter of hours and sometimes it’s a matter of days, but they wait out the panic, starve it in the face of Billy’s patience and Billy’s calm and Billy’s way with knives and guns both; no one’s getting to Goodnight if Billy’s there keeping watch. So Goodnight slowly unhitches his shoulders, tries to breathe deep through the smell of cigarettes as Billy works his way through another pack of smokes, and takes another shower. Dresses himself in clean clothes that aren’t drenched in sweat and curls a hand around Billy’s neck.

“Why don’t you put that out and go grab the box,” he says, “darling.” Draws the last word out with a smile: still half-amused, after all this time, that Billy lets him call him that.

Billy fetches the box and strips down to nothing, and that’s (partially) how this started in the first place, isn’t it? A faint, quiet thought: _Billy takes direction so well_. And as puzzling as it is sometimes that Billy lets him bandy about names like darling and sweetheart, like he’s a college twink with his first crush, it’s even more unfathomable why a man like that does anything that Goodnight asks of him. Maybe it makes him a weak man, but he tries not to examine that particular question too closely: he’s not too sure about the why, but Billy’s still here, despite everything, and that’s good enough.

———

Goodnight pulls the lube from the box, lets it heat in his hand some, and thumbs at the pucker of Billy’s asshole. With Billy staring down at him through half-lidded eyes, he goes from one finger to three, curling his fingers every now and then just to see if he can surprise some noise out of Billy. It never works this early on and Billy just keeps looking at him, all implacable and haughty, and lord, that look always makes him want to fuck this man to loudness.

———

And that’s the problem: when the spirit is willing, but the flesh, immovable. The first few times this happened, a large amount of violence was visited on the surroundings, embarrassment turning quickly on the heels of fear to anger. A number of ideas were tried and discarded in quick succession, until they finally hit on a way for Goodnight to fuck Billy by proxy, as thanks and reward both.

So Goodnight lashes Billy to the bedpost. Slides a vibrator inside, pulls one of Billy’s legs over his shoulder, and turns it on as he presses a kiss to the inside of Billy’s thigh. Mouths at the soft skin there a little bit as Billy clenches his fists, tests the restraints, settles in for the long haul.

———

He starts off easy, vibrator on low and slow, steady strokes. Presses in and up with the palm of his hand and holds it there for a few beats, watching Billy’s jaw muscle jump and twitch as he clenches his teeth. Still silent. When he lets up on the pressure, Billy takes a beat and smirks, just a little upturned corner of his mouth. Most of the time Goodnight can’t help being goaded into more and faster, but that’s one of the benefits of using a plastic dick over the flesh and blood kind: unsullied by his own selfish desire, he can take the time he needs to see Billy shake himself apart.

He starts up a soft, low patter of how good Billy looks, how pretty he is stuffed full of cock, and keeps going in and out with no particular rhythm. Enough force on the upswing for Billy to feel it, but gone again before it can feel satisfying. A fine sheen of sweat starts glossing over Billy, who closes his eyes and swallows a little: worked up on nothing more than words and a hint of what’s to come.

It’s nice, teasing Billy like this, but actually fucking Billy is even nicer, so Goodnight grinds the vibrator in deep and slowly turns the dial on the base. Holds it there for a breath, maybe more, the span of time it takes for the slightest tremors to start winding their way down Billy’s legs. Then he knocks Billy’s legs even wider, flicks his wrist, and starts thrusting just the way Billy likes to be fucked.

———

Billy’s stomach jumps when the vibrator hits just right, but that happens less than it ought to: he’s dug both his heels onto the mattress to lever his hips up and force his own rhythm. But the whole point of this exercise is that Goodnight is in charge, that Goodnight gets to do whatever he wants because holding Billy down and making him take it somehow sews him back up into something resembling human form again. Hours of shaking and stuttering and letting Billy lead him around like a lost lamb made tolerable, if not copacetic, because he gets his turn to make Billy do all the shaking and stuttering.

So he grips Billy’s left hip with his hand, pins him down and proceeds at his own pace. Billy’s stomach starts jumping all wild and flustered, and he huffs a whine, pressing up against Goodnight’s hands. Goodnight shoves him down harder and looks up at Billy’s face. He wants to see everything.

———

Billy features a lot in the jokes Goodnight tells. The jokes are only at Billy’s expense every now and then, but he takes it all in neutral humor. Seems to understand that the jokes and tall tales are all Goodnight has left; all of the stories he has to share are poor ones for good company.

Billy plays the stern and silent type a little too well in public, and Goodnight often follows in his wake, laughing and explaining to whatever member of the general public Billy’s managed to offend with his overly brusque nature that he’s pretty sure the ornery son of a bitch doesn’t even know the words “please” and “thank you” in English.

Goodnight doesn’t understand much Korean at all—he’s got no head for languages, the bare minimum of Arabic and Kurdish both drilled into him only out of necessity—but he knows a few words. Food, mostly. Swear words. But although Goodnight’s fairly certain he’s still never heard Billy say please in English, he knows what it sounds like in Korean.

———

Billy always starts off with swearing first. English, Korean: the specifics are sometimes lost on Goodnight, but he’s pretty sure he gets the gist of it. Billy fights with Goodnight, tries to pull and push his way to what he wants, starts cussing low and fast and heated when he doesn’t get it. Goodnight pulls back when Billy gets close, tries to gentle him with a firm hand stroking down his chest while Billy thumps against the bed and swears in two languages.

Goodnight pulls him back again and again, and Billy starts shaking in earnest every time. Goodnight waits while Billy chokes out a few particularly creative insinuations about his parentage, grip firm at the base of Billy’s cock, rides out the shudders until Billy calms a little, and then shoves back in again.

Billy whines a little, and then Goodnight licks a stripe up his cock, mouthing the head as he fucks the vibrator in and out. Billy sucks in a breath, seems to hold it in all high and tight in surprise, breaking only when Goodnight relaxes into it and starts blowing him in earnest. The air seems to come rushing out all at once then, and along with it comes all of Billy’s nice manners: please, please, _please_.

He sucks Billy down as far as he can manage, gets comfortable. Leans in to keep him still when Billy jerks up for more, listens and waits for Billy to start whining softly on the exhale in between all that pretty Korean. Goodnight looks up to grin at Billy as he thrashes against the loss of his mouth, curls one hand softly against the base of Billy’s cock.

Billy looks down at him, starts shaking and doesn’t stop, eyes wide open with blown pupils, long hair all mussed up and half plastered to his face. And how can Goodnight say no to a request like that, especially when Billy’s been so good for him? Strips Billy’s cock a few times, hard and fast, as Billy all but shouts his name, no longer fighting against him, just taking everything he’s given. Billy comes all over himself, head thrown back and moaning loud.

Goodnight waits out the aftershocks, jerking his cock slowly as Billy bites wet gasps into his forearms. Flicks the vibrator off again and takes the vibrator out, running his fingers against the wet hole as Billy tries to breathe again. Goodnight takes his time before reaching out to unbuckle Billy from the restraints, looks his fill. Goodnight thinks, not for the first time: Lord, what a pretty fucking picture he makes.

———

Afterwards, once Goodnight’s cleaned Billy up and they’re made decent, they head to a diner a few blocks down for an early breakfast, although all Goodnight orders is coffee. He looks at Billy sitting across from him, hair pinned up all nice, collected and aloof, like he’s just getting an early start to the day. Like he didn’t just lay down and let Goodnight fuck all that calm out of him.

As Billy gets started on his breakfast, Goodnight can’t help but stare at the cuffs of his shirt, remembering buttoning them up over thick red marks on Billy’s wrists. Billy peers up at him from under his lashes and smirks a bit, like he knows what Goodnight’s thinking. And, shit, he probably does. That thought doesn’t frighten him as much as it used to.

Goodnight slouches back into his seat some more, gripping his mug, smiles back slow and wide. Thinks a little about how those marks will purple and bruise, how Billy will look in a wifebeater with nothing to cover those rings around his wrists. What that means about how much Billy is willing to do, how long Billy will stay. The prospect of Billy in arm’s reach for the foreseeable future sits sweetly in the back of his mind.

Goodnight thinks to himself: Maybe today will be one of the good days.


End file.
